


Maybe

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, man, I saved your ass! Those weirdos totally wanted to melt your beautiful face! Did you want to look like me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

God, he _hated_ terrorists. And military groups with innovative, never-seen-before guns he had no idea how they worked.

He hated how those bullets that weren’t bullets whistled near his ears, threatening to hit his sides or legs. He hated how his webs weren’t very useful because those guys simply shot at them, disintegrating them.

They were a lot and he was alone; they were prepared, expert big guys who knew his weak points - who didn’t by now? - and he was confused by their advanced technology. Why couldn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. deal with this? They were the best against terroristic groups!

"Okay, folks, I know you want to kill me, but you could at least give me a break before doing it?" Peter jumped on a wall to dodge the fiftieth bullet in a day, grimacing when it hit the bricks and melted them.

"… Well, damn."

He managed to knock off two soldiers, but others were approaching. Some of them looked more like scientists, with creepy, empty needles in their hands. They probably wanted to take some blood from him and study it later for their violent and world-endangering purposes.

"Sorry, my blood is pretty precious to me!" he shot a big dose of webs on the scientists’ faces and avoided another stream of bullets, careful not to get too near the soldiers, now visibly annoyed.

"Stop jumping like a grasshopper, you disgusting bug!"

"For your information, I am supposed to be a spider. _Spider_ -Man, get it?” Peter huffed, shooting some more webs and finally managing to hit other two adversaries. “And you aren’t making this very simple for me either. I am trying to stop your villainous activity, the least you could do is standing still!”

A dart shot by a scientist cut him off and he stared at the silver tranquillizer sticking out of his thigh with shock.

"This should finally stop him."

"Aim for the head. We need him dead."

And he needed to _move_! He needed to leave that wall, jump again, dodge the hit, the _bullets that could melt bricks_ … but he only removed the dart with a shaky hand, feeling his strength and focus quickly slip away, his breath ragged, his ears ringing…

Then he heard the shot and instinctively closed his eyes, ready to feel the horrible pain, the burn, the melted face… but nothing came and he slowly looked down, cold sweat running down his back.

As soon as he did that, he felt dizzy and his grip on the wall weakened, until he fell down like a bag of potatoes, groaning and coughing in the dirt. He still had no idea of what was happening, he could only hear distant screams, more shooting, heavy footsteps and a familiar voice… but it wasn’t really much, not in his current conditions, so he stayed still, waiting for his body to kick out the tranquillizer.

Then he suddenly felt a strong arm encircle his waist and lift him without effort; his head landed softly on a broad, hard chest, and he stayed limp as _Deadpool_ shot the last terrorists right in the face.

The merc pressed him further on his body, glared at the corpses one last time, then looked at him with a worried expression.

"Spidey! Are you okay?"

"Huh…" Peter nodded and frowned slightly. "What… what are you…"

"Everyone was talking about the _chaos_ in this part of the city, so I decided to see what was happening… you know, just to spend time in a different way rather than watch TV all day in a filthy apartment.” Deadpool grinned and patted his back. “Apparently I made the right choice, because you were _seriously_ in trouble, my friend!”

"You…" Peter turned his head towards the bodies and grimaced. "They are dead, aren’t they?"

"Maybe…?" Deadpool pouted, shaking him, gently but decisively. "Hey, man, I saved your ass! Those weirdos totally wanted to melt your beautiful face! Did you want to look like me?"

The younger man sighed and rested his cheek on the merc’s shoulder, too exhausted to repeat his “no-killing” policy. So he thanked the other man, who grinned proudly at him.

"Why did they attack you anyway?" Deadpool asked as he laid back against the wall, Peter still cradled in his arms. "Did you piss them off? Ruined their plans in the past? Offended their mothers?"

"No." Peter smiled weakly. Wilson always managed to put a smile on his face, even in the grimmest or most difficult situations. "I think they just wanted to cut me into tiny pieces and study my body."

"… Kinky."

Peter playfully swatted his chest, his smile broadening, and Wilson chuckled. One of his hands went on the hero’s head and massaged the scalp, maybe to give him some comfort in his dizziness.

"Damn, Spidey, you are _damp_! That shit they shot you made you sweat like a pig!"

Peter blushed and scowled at him, immediately self-aware of his pitiful state.

"It’s not my fault!" he croaked out. Then he added, lowering his voice and looking away, feigning offense: "If you are so disgusted, then let me go. I am already feeling a little bit better."

"Nah, I love your sweat." Wilson was massaging his neck, now, and Peter had to focus a lot not to moan appreciatively. He felt sore and stiff, and that big, warm hand did wonders on his poor body.

"That’s gross."

"I also love holding you like this." the merc sniffed with a terribly sad, puppy face. "Can we do this more often?"

"Preferably without crazy soldiers." Peter chuckled, closing his eyes and resting his head on the older man’s body, smelling gun oil and spicy food. He liked that smell.

Wilson stayed silent for a few seconds, then asked with a timid voice: “So that is a yes…?”

Peter opened one eye and looked at him, at the surprise and happiness written all over his masked face, imagining the blush under the scars.

"Maybe."

He smiled smugly, eyes closed again, and snuggled against the merc as the older man whined and grumbled about his bad manners.


End file.
